


Putting the I in Divine

by ExaltedBrand



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Improper use of magic, Kissing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Silly, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExaltedBrand/pseuds/ExaltedBrand
Summary: After all her training, Larcei is itching to see some real action.Unfortunately, she's stuck with L'Arachel instead.
Relationships: L'Arachel (Fire Emblem)/Lakche | Larcei
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Putting the I in Divine

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing suggestion from GeneratedUsername
> 
> in which Larcei tries and fails to understand the enigmas of L'Arachel's mind

Larcei was ready for action. She’d trained tirelessly, practiced with her sword from the early hours of dawn to the late skies of dusk, and worked with a dedication that even Prince Shannan, were he there with her in the Order of Heroes, wouldn’t have been able to ignore. Her talent with a blade was beyond doubt—it far exceeded that of many of the other ‘heroes’ in Askr—and it was clear as day that she was more than worthy of fighting on the frontlines.

So how had things ended up like this?

“Come, dearest Larcei!” L’Arachel cried. “Let us set forth in the name of righteousness! Let us fulfil our divine mission and deliver these good people from this vile presence—wheresoever it may lurk!”

For a brief, blissful moment, Larcei had thought that her mission out to the remote village of Holm, some forty miles from the royal family’s castle, might have been a chance to prove herself. The village’s farmlands were being stalked, so reports claimed, by a monster of some kind; and as the Order’s forces had been stretched thin of late, they could only spare two heroes to investigate the rumours and bring peace back to Holm. Larcei had assumed, quite naturally, that such a small group would have to be formed from the best of the best. Her own ability was without question, and the partner the Order had assigned her, L’Arachel, only reassured her at first. She was a troubadour and a talented cleric, and her beauty and devotion to fighting evil, dramatic though she seemed at times, reminded her of Nanna’s gentle-spoken resolve.

In reality, however, their grand quest had so far been nothing short of ridiculous. For as noble as she looked, Larcei had quickly discovered that L’Arachel was self-obsessed, nonsensical, and utterly hopeless under any kind of pressure. After traipsing around the Askran countryside for close to a week at the mercy of her terrible sense of direction, they had only managed to reach Holm the prior afternoon, whereupon L’Arachel—far from showing any urgency, as Larcei had suggested, to find the monster and be done with their agonising task—had insisted on parading herself around the town to announce the ‘arrival of justice’. She strode about as if thinking herself a romantic hero of old, and took absolutely nothing seriously.

It was difficult for Larcei to shake the feeling that, rather than having been chosen for her exemplary skill, she’d been tasked with babysitting. Or, more insultingly, the Order thought so little of her that she herself was being babysat by an idiot.

She wasn’t even really sure how accurate the reports of a monster were. The villagers seemed less menaced and more mildly irritated, and as far as she could tell from talking with them, there hadn’t been any greater harm done than a few missing sheep and a slightly damaged shed. No-one had witnessed the culprits, but no-one had been hurt, either. It seemed just as likely that an opportunistic wolf was taking swipes at unattended livestock and scavenging for locked-up supplies.

Nevertheless, as they set out that morning, L’Arachel’s enthusiasm held as strong as ever. Too strong, as far as Larcei was concerned. She tried her best to ignore the concerned glances L’Arachel’s dramatic pointing and shouting drew from the villagers, but it was mortifying enough just accompanying her. Determined not to suffer any further embarrassment, she took the cleric by the arm and quickly led her out of the village and down the main road. More than anything, she wanted this to be over.

“Ah…! The joy of setting forth on such a heroic undertaking!” L’Arachel said, and Larcei squirmed as the woman suddenly linked arms with her. “Side by side, arm in arm with a fellow champion of virtue… How splendid!”

Larcei tried to break free from L’Arachel’s grip, but it was useless. How could someone so slim and dainty have such tenacity…?!

“Hey… Get off, already…!”

“Fear not, dearest Larcei!” she sighed, completely oblivious to her protests. “Evil will be drawn to our radiance like moths to a flame! No monster shall—”

“Monsters don’t exist—besides the ones who dress like people.” Larcei’s arm went limp, unable to withstand L’Arachel’s gruelling strength, and she sighed. “It’s probably just a wolf, or a boar, or some other kind of animal. A wyvern, if we’re lucky. At least that would be exciting…”

“My, Larcei—a wyvern, to your mind, is an ‘exciting’ prospect! Then I pity the poor beastie when we encounter it! With your blade and my tactical brilliance, we shall make quick work of whatever—or whoever—is terrorizing this fair hamlet!”

Larcei snorted. “Tactical brilliance? Thanks to you, we were in the wrong village for three days…!”

“Ah, but what a wonderful three days those were!” she said, apparently unaffected by Larcei’s scorn. “Such splendid food! Truly, they must have recognised our magnificence and wanted us to stay as long as possible!”

“Yeah. Definitely wasn’t because you were splashing our budget on every meal they offered you. If we get into a scrap, I won’t even be able to afford maintenance on my sword now…”

“Indeed? How positively dreadful! Then I trust you will strike true and deliver justice to the monster in one fell swoop! It shan’t escape our sights—not if I, the beautiful princess of peerless beauty, have anything to—”

“Could you stop calling yourself that?” Larcei groaned. “The ‘hero of justice’ was bad enough, but now you’re starting to sound delusional.”

“I’ll have you know,” L’Arachel said, grinning, “that I am rightfully deserving of such a title! It’s only befitting of one as dedicated to opposing evil as I!”

“Get over yourself.”

“I shall not! Not while the world is in such dire need of my heroism!”

With that, L’Arachel’s pace quickened, releasing her arm and marching further down the road. Larcei kept pace with her, glad to finally feel the blood rushing back into her fingers, and cast her gaze around the surrounding fields. All still seemed quiet; there were no signs of beasts or monsters, of anything out of the ordinary. If anything, it was a little too nice: the sun baked down on them with a ferocious heat, making Larcei’s every movement feel languid and sluggish. She wiped the sweat off her brow, taking a long drink from her waterskin, but for as lightly as she dressed, it was starting to grow intolerable.

No. She had to be stronger than that. She was a practiced warrior; a swordswoman worthy of fighting the Order of Heroes’ toughest battles. Her mother would never have balked at a hot day—and neither would she.

After a short while, the two of them came across a fork in the road. The path to the left, worn down and buried between rocks and roots, led into a sheltered woodland; the other, to the right, followed the edge of the trees before trailing off into another field.

Larcei looked to L’Arachel, who seemed to be sweating even more than she was.

“Well?” she asked. “Where to, oh great of princess of whatever? Where does your _divine eye_ sense the presence of evil?”

L’Arachel was quiet for a moment. Then, as if delivering a grand proclamation, she suddenly threw a hand towards the trees. “That way! I can feel it!”

Larcei quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Yes—yes, I’m positive!” the cleric cried. “A terrible evil lurks within these woods! A foul monster, no doubt!”

Suppressing a groan, Larcei put a hand on the hilt of her sword. From a logical perspective, it did seem more likely that a monster would make its home in the woods than out in the open.

“Fine. Let’s go take a look.”

“Indeed! We shall vanquish the vile creature and return in triumph!”

This really was ridiculous. The Order of Heroes must have thought she was a child to saddle her with a task like this.

She and L’Arachel walked forwards into the woods, and immediately she felt a rush of cool air against her face. She sighed in relief as they moved under the shadows of the trees, taking another drink from her waterskin. A drop of sweat ran down her face before falling to the ground.

“Ahh…” L’Arachel sighed. “Such a refreshing breeze! I knew from my divine intuition that the woods would be lovely. Perhaps we shall make camp here for the night when darkness falls again! Cast aside our stuffy room for the splendour of nature!”

Larcei glared at her. “Did you seriously suggest coming this way just so you could cool down? We’re supposed to be looking for a monster! Not taking a stroll in the woods!”

“You wound me, Larcei! I have sacred duties to perform; I would never shirk them in favour of my own pleasures. However, if fate has led us here, then I shall indulge in nature’s blissful wonders as we prepare to confront evil!”

Larcei wasn’t ready to acknowledge, of course, that she was glad for the shade. She didn’t want to give L’Arachel the satisfaction of humouring her nonsense about divinity and fate.

Still… it was nice to have a break from the heat.

“Besides,” L’Arachel went on, in her usual way, “you wound me further by insinuating that I would lie! My holy blood prevents me from telling falsehoods, for I have sworn an oath to the truth!”

“Alright, alright. I get it, okay?”

By now, Larcei didn’t bother arguing back; she’d learned it was a waste of time. Instead, she just sighed and looked around.

It was rather pretty here, she had to admit. Quiet, at least. It was dim, but not so dark that they needed a torch.

Already, L’Arachel was wandering off the path, strolling through the forest and looking at the flowers.

“Ah!” she gasped. “What a positively radiant flower! And so unlike anything in Rausten… It’d make such a marvellous gift for Princess Eirika—”

“L’Arachel!” Larcei hissed. “Stop! Stop ogling the flowers and come back here! You could at least pretend you’re taking this seriously!”

“But I am! It’s simply that I must pick this beautiful bloom for dear Eirika! She’d enjoy it so; I just know it!”

“Then pick some later! We’re busy!”

L’Arachel sighed, but nodded. “Oh, very well. But I expect you to help me gather flowers when we’re done! That, too, is one of our sacred duties. If we are to spread cheer and happiness throughout the world, then such gifts are of paramount—hold one moment! Where are you going? Stop at once!”

Larcei heard L’Arachel’s footsteps chasing after her and rolled her eyes. The sooner they were done, the better.

They moved deeper into the woods, and the air grew colder around them. It was darker than before. Larcei considered lighting a torch, but she could still see the path before her well enough. More importantly, she had no intention of alerting anything that might have been lurking about.

“Goodness me,” L’Arachel said, “what frightful darkness…! I cannot see in front of me! Where did you go, Larcei?”

“It’d help if you opened your eyes.”

She opened them. “Oh! There you are. I was wondering why your voice had moved so far away.” She looked around, taking in her surroundings. “We must surely have reached the depths of this place by now. Yet the trees are so densely packed that I doubt even a wolf could—GYAAAH!”

Larcei froze as L’Arachel’s scream shattered the silence, seizing the hilt of her blade and drawing it in one swift motion.

“L-Larcei! To my left! We are beset by a demon!”

She spun around, gripping her sword—and through the darkness of the trees, she saw a pair of red eyes staring back at her. A form shifted in the shadows, and a creature resembling a monstrous dog emerged, with claws and fangs shrouded in a strange, purple glow that burned like fire. It growled fiercely under its breath, stalking closer and closer.

Something wasn’t right. This was no ordinary creature. L’Arachel was right; it looked almost demonic.

“At last!” L’Arachel cried triumphantly, as if she hadn’t been shrieking only a moment ago. “The beast bears its fangs—but we shall purge it from this land! Back, foul creature, back; lest I whack you with my staff and drive you back to the depths from whence you came!”

“Be careful!” Larcei said. “This isn’t an ordinary—”

Then it lunged at the cleric, and Larcei rushed forward to interpose herself between L’Arachel and the creature. She raised her sword, but the creature was faster, knocking her to the floor with its weight. Its sharp claws dug into her chest and along her arms, and as the purple flames seared into her wounds, she screamed out in agony.

“Larcei!” L’Arachel cried.

The creature threw back its head and howled—and three more answered the cry, each from a different direction. The two heroes were hardly equipped for the one; but these three must have been lurking just out of sight, waiting for the perfect moment. Stepping out of the shadows, the creatures began to encircle them, snarling, while the first beast continued to bear down on Larcei, gnashing its teeth against her sword, which was being pushed inexorably closer and closer to her face by its weight.

“L’Arachel! Some magic!”

“I… I need time!” she said, clutching her staff and casting her eyes at the beasts. “Oh, heavens forgive me…!”

“Just do something!” Larcei hissed through gritted teeth, feeling the sword buckle as the creature suddenly increased its force. “Anything!”

“I-I have it! I need but a moment…!”

From the corners of her vision, Larcei saw the beasts moving nearer, now cutting off any avenues of escape.

“Now!” she heard L’Arachel cry. “Let my dazzling radiance blind them, and let your blade be my divine fulcrum!”

“Your divine—what does that even—?!”

But then the entire forest was awash with a burst of light, and Larcei only just managed to shield her eyes in time. Above the howls of pain from the beasts, she heard L’Arachel cry out.

“Now, dearest Larcei! Strike true!”

Feeling the weight above her loosen, she rolled to the side and pushed herself to her feet, and as she squinted in the fading light, she saw the beasts staggering in confusion. Without wasting a moment, she grabbed her sword and brought it down into her attacker, slicing it in half; then swung sideways, the blade biting into a second creature’s flesh. She drew back, jumping to the side to avoid a desperate claw, then plunged the sword into the creature’s side.

The other two beasts paced back, as if ready to flee. One of them—the largest—immediately broke into a sprint; but the other hesitated, still dazed and stumbling. Larcei readied her sword—only for L’Arachel to charge it instead, swinging her staff like a barbarian. The beast’s jaws snapped at her, but she deftly avoided the attack and landed several painful hits with the staff.

“Take this!” she cried. “And this! Taste the holy wrath of a chosen hero! Repent! Atone! Have at you!”

Larcei watched as the staff bashed into the creature’s skull again and again, and couldn’t help but grimace slightly.

“L’Arachel?”

“Yes?” she answered, still swinging the staff with fervour.

“I think it’s dead.”

“Oh. Yes, so it is.”

She stopped bashing the creature’s corpse and looked down at it. It was sprawled out on its front, and its head was beaten into an ugly shape. If one of its kin hadn’t almost killed Larcei, she might have even felt sorry for it.

But they weren’t done. One had escaped. Larcei staggered forward, ready to pursue—but then felt a sharp pain running through her body, falling to her knees.

“Goodness me…!” L’Arachel said. “You’re wounded!”

Larcei glanced down and winced. Long, bloody scratches covered her forearms, while a long gash on her chest stung angrily. She could still feel the burning sensation; the way that purple fire had scorched her skin. The wounds weren’t deep, but they could have been.

“It’s just a scratch,” she said, grimacing. “We need to chase that last one down…”

“Nonsense!” L’Arachel said, pointing her staff at Larcei. “I cannot abide an ally of justice suffering so! We shall return to the village and tend to your wounds in safety!”

Larcei didn’t have a chance to answer, because L’Arachel grabbed her wrist and immediately began dragging her back through the woods.

“W-we can’t,” she groaned. “We’re not finished yet…!”

“Do you think you’re in any fit state to fight that creature? It may have fled for now, but it was the foulest and largest of the lot! If you simply perished, then how could you bring righteousness to the world? What good would it do anyone to let your beauty expire?”

Larcei tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat.

L’Arachel was right. She hated it—hated saying it, hated admitting it, hated the idea of running from a fight—but there was no sense in rushing to her death. As her mother’s comrades had found in Grannvale, there was nothing noble about it.

No wonder she hadn’t been picked for the frontlines yet. She’d almost died to a dog.

“Erm… L’Arachel?”

“Yes?”

“I can walk there myself, you know. I’m not that wounded…”

“Perhaps. But I would feel far more comfortable if you would let me tend to you, as it were.”

“Don’t treat me like a child…”

L’Arachel didn’t listen to her, and so Larcei could only follow in her wake as she dragged her back through the forest.

The annoying thing was that she was right again—Larcei’s body really did hurt. Her head was spinning, and her thoughts seemed backwards.

She’d never seen L’Arachel look so determined before. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, ignoring even the flowers they’d passed earlier, while her arms—unnervingly strong as ever—focused on shouldering Larcei’s pain. In that moment, Larcei saw the woman she’d first assumed L’Arachel to be; the talented, devoted enemy of evil who reminded her so much of Nanna, and of all the stories she’d heard of Lachesis.

Maybe it was the pain thinking for her, or the grogginess, or the confusion. But for as much of an idiot as she could be, L’Arachel was quite beautiful.

“L’Arachel…?”

“Yes?”

“I… Thanks. For saving my life.”

“Ah! That?” she said, as if she’d hardly broken a sweat. “Think nothing of it, dearest Larcei! One day, my—that is, _our_ deeds—will be sung in every corner of Askr! It’s only natural that one as devoted to righteousness as I should help her ally in need!”

L’Arachel paused, growing oddly silent for a moment.

“Indeed, if anything… I should have intervened far sooner. My hesitation caused you harm.”

Larcei didn’t know how to respond. It was strange to hear L’Arachel’s voice, so carefree and silly, suddenly turn serious. Solemn, even.

Even if she was a bit overzealous and obsessed with attention, maybe she really did have an earnest side. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t still annoying, of course. L’Arachel was still L’Arachel, and Larcei was all too acquainted with what that meant.

She was just… less annoying today.

* * *

Back in Holm, L’Arachel helped her back into their room in the inn. It was a small, cramped place—two beds, a small dresser, a table off to the side—but at least the beds were comfortable enough. Larcei took off her boots and armour, leaving her in just her purple tunic, and sat on the bed while L’Arachel fetched a wet cloth.

“Stay still,” L’Arachel said. “Your wounds will need the proper attention. Fortunately for you, my many talents extend to treating injuries!”

She sat down beside Larcei, then started on her arms, tenderly wiping away the sweat and blood caking her skin and softly caressing the hair running up it.

Larcei shivered a bit, and it wasn’t just from the chill of the water. The cloth moved up and down, light as a feather, and the blood gently washed away. L’Arachel’s other hand held Larcei by the shoulder, providing the warmth her clattering teeth desperately needed.

Then the cloth moved to the wound on her chest, and she shuddered as the water stung it. She gasped and grit her teeth, but L’Arachel softly rubbed her chest, providing a gentle pressure that dulled the pain.

“Your injuries run so deep…” L’Arachel murmured. “Tell me—did the beast’s wicked energies burn into you?”

Larcei nodded. “Y-yeah… I think so…”

For a moment, her eyes ran deep with concern.

“I see.”

Her hand continued, moving all around Larcei’s chest and rubbing the cloth in gentle motions—until Larcei, feeling a sudden swell of pleasure, let out a high moan.

L’Arachel’s hand froze, and Larcei felt the blood rushing to her face. In her dazed, delirious state, the noise had slipped out by complete accident—she’d lost all sense of where she was, what was happening, who was treating her.

“Are you _sure_ you’re quite alright, Larcei? Why, you’re positively blushing!”

Larcei bit her lip and nodded. She wasn’t alright. Her vision was blurring, her head was throbbing, and it was still nothing compared to the warmth she was feeling in that moment—the strange feelings coursing through her at L’Arachel’s touch. But L’Arachel resumed all the same, going step by step until her chest was cleaned. The blood washed away until only a small drop of scarlet remained along her scar, and the cleric set to work applying a salve and wrapping bandages around her cuts.

“There!” L’Arachel said, stepping back to admire her work. “Ah… A marvellous job! Indeed, it may very well have been a fatal wound if not for my timely intervention!”

Larcei sighed, moving her arms. It still ached, but it was nothing to the searing sensation before.

“…Thank you, L’Arachel. I guess I messed up pretty badly back there.”

“Nonsense!” L’Arachel said. “You fought so bravely, so valiantly—why, I was enchanted by the sight of you! A dazzling display of good triumphing over evil! You were every bit the holy warrior I believed you were when I first met you.”

“I'm not some child in need of praise, you know. I know when I make mistakes…”

L’Arachel smiled. “On the contrary—I would be a poor paragon of justice if I let such heroism go unrewarded.”

She paused—and then her smile turned into a peculiar grin.

“How shall I reward you, dearest Larcei?”

Larcei felt her throat tighten. Reward…? What did she mean by that?

L’Arachel was standing before her, still clad in her robes and armor. She was probably still covered in sweat beneath. It wasn’t proper to think about a lady in such a way, but then and there, Larcei couldn’t help but find her attractive…

But that wasn’t the kind of reward she meant, of course. L’Arachel’s idea of a reward would have sooner been a sermon on the benefits of faith than—

Then the cleric took her hand, looking into her eyes, and Larcei could feel her gentle breathing on her face.

Hold on—hold on, hold on, hold on. What was happening? This didn’t seem like L’Arachel at all. The intimacy was so sudden; so _sensual_ …

“Erm… L’Arachel? Are you feeling okay?”

L’Arachel’s eyelids drooped, gazing into Larcei. Her face inched closer.

Larcei didn’t understand. She didn’t know why L’Arachel was acting so strangely, or why she seemed like an entirely different person.

But she liked it.

In that moment, Larcei realised she wanted her. It wasn’t a noble thought, but she wanted her right now.

“Larcei…” L’Arachel purred, her hand moving to the swordswoman’s chin. “There must be something you desire.”

Her other hand moved to Larcei’s thigh, then even further down.

“Ah…!” Larcei groaned.

Somehow—for some reason she couldn’t even begin to comprehend—L’Arachel was stroking her womanhood through her panties, a devilish grin on her face.

“Is it me?” she asked teasingly. “Is this how you wish to be rewarded?”

Larcei’s breath quickened, and her heart thudded in her chest. She didn’t understand why this was happening, but she didn’t care.

“Yes…” she moaned. “L’Arachel… I-I… I want—”

“Ah-hah!” L’Arachel cried. “I knew it!”

L’Arachel’s hands suddenly left Larcei’s body, and the cleric leapt back. She was her usual self again—wide-eyed and intense.

“W-what…?” Larcei stammered. Every feeling that had been building up inside her body left her all at once, and her wounds ached more strongly than ever in their absence. 

“Your shivering as I cleaned your wounds; your moan of longing as I touched your chest…! I had to be sure—to coax it out of you with immoral, salacious advances, just as darkness draws in evil—but I see now that it’s just as I feared!

“See what? What are you talking about…?!”

“Why, it’s clear as day!” L’Arachel cried. “That wicked monster’s essence has seeped into your body and corrupted your pure maiden’s mind! Tainted you with such unholy lust! Such _lewdness_! Why else would you react in such a covetous manner when tempted by a woman as virtuous and upstanding and I?”

“Gee,” Larcei hissed, “I don’t know! Maybe it’s because you were a beautiful woman coming onto me…?!”

She regretted her words the moment they left their mouth—but luckily, they seemed to be completely lost on L’Arachel, who kept going without so much as pausing for breath.

“Ah—but never fear, my dearest Larcei, never fear! For you are in luck; blessed with the presence of the most devout woman Magvel has ever seen! I shall lead you away from these dark impulses and back towards the light!”

This was unbelievable. Humiliating. So L’Arachel had decided to start flirting with her out of the blue, only to then walk it all back just to give her a lesson on _chastity_? _That_ was her idea of moralising?

She’d been right all along: this woman really would have sooner given her a sermon than indulged her desires. All the beauty in the world couldn’t have made her any less annoying or aggravating.

“First,” L’Arachel declared, “I shall satiate these impure, beastly urges consuming you, so as to lure the evil within into a false sense of security—then, at precisely the right moment, I will purify you with the holiest of divine magic!”

Wait, what?

‘Satiate?’

Larcei, so hopelessly wet and pent-up, could only blink up at this madwoman in confusion. But her confusion quickly gave way to confused arousal as L’Arachel began to draw off her armour and untie her dress.

“Ah! Such splendid stories I read when I was a child,” L’Arachel said, continuing to undress. “The hero earns the affection of the princess, and they live happily ever after… And you, Larcei… As a hero yourself, I daresay I have developed quite the affection for you on our quest. _Strictly_ platonic affection, of course—yet affection enough that I, the divine Princess of Rausten, will do whatever it takes to cleanse you of this unnatural depravity! For a maiden such as you, a maiden so pure and so far beyond compare… I will offer you everything I have, and more!”

Now stripped down to her undergarments, she pushed the baffled Larcei gently down onto the bed and began to remove her tunic.

“You needn’t worry,” she whispered in Larcei’s ear. “Simply relax, and let my heavenly splendour heal your soul…”

L’Arachel reached down and slipped her hands under Larcei’s panties, her fingers brushing against her most intimate of areas, and a jolt of pleasure ran through Larcei as she began to massage her down there. The cleric slowly leaned in to kiss her, and as their lips touched, Larcei could feel the warm fingers start to explore her.

“Let us show these wicked whims the true meaning of love,” she said softly, kissing Larcei more passionately with each word, “and show it that simple affection, as light triumphs over darkness, will always triumph over raw, base lust…!”

Larcei still had absolutely no idea what she was going on about—and wondered if L’Arachel might have needed a lesson in tempering lust more than herself—but she was too enamoured by the moment to really care.

L’Arachel’s gentle motions quickly became more rapid; her fingers moved in and out, stroking and exploring Larcei, and her kisses grew more intense in turn. Larcei responded in kind, and L’Arachel’s hips began to rock in time with her fingers, with the wet sounds of her hands lubing Larcei’s entrance filling the air. The pleasure was unlike anything Larcei had ever experienced, and all she could do was surrender to it. The heat and intimacy were sensations she’d never thought possible from L’Arachel of all people—and she struggled to remind herself that yes, she really was doing this with L’Arachel, no matter how bizarre the woman’s reasons were—but she was loving every second of it.

L'Arachel slid off the bed for a moment, discarding her undergarments.

“Now, dearest Larcei,” she said, “for the moment of your purification…”

She took her staff from the end of the bed and focused for a few moments. Then, a strap-on formed of shimmering light materialized around her waist, flaring to life. If was so well-endowed that Larcei wasn’t sure If she could take it.

“Let us join together as one,” she said, presenting it to Larcei. “Let our united passion for justice drive the debauchery from you and replace it with bliss!”

Larcei gulped, sizing it up. “I-it’s… big…”

“It shall only hurt so long as corruption resides within you,” L’Arachel said, as if what she was saying made any sense in the slightest. “As the pain ends, so too will you know that the wickedness has been purged from your body!”

L’Arachel took Larcei’s wrist in her hand, and gently wrapped the swordswoman’s fingers and the base of the sheath. Larcei gripped it, surprised by how real it felt: the pulsating member was warm to the touch. She then took Larcei’s other hand and wrapped it around the head, their fingers brushing together as they did so.

“Now,” she said with a smile, “let us put it to good use. Turn around. I shall enter you from behind, so that I may gaze upon your beautiful body as we make love! …And as I save your soul!”

“Behind…? C-can’t you do that from the front?”

“Certainly not!” L’Arachel said, shocked. “To put a holy princess in such a lewd position… That would be highly indecent!”

“How is _this_ anything but indecent…?!”

“Simply perish the thought!” L’Arachel insisted. “Such a position is sacred! It’s prohibited until matrimony—and only between lovers!”

Larcei didn’t understand, but she begrudgingly obliged all the same, turning around and bending over slightly. L’Arachel took a moment to rub herself against her, her strap-on pressing against Larcei’s rear as she held herself up with one hand. Then, without warning, she slowly entered her.

“Ah…!” Larcei yelped.

As L’Arachel began to thrust, it took everything in Larcei to stop herself from screaming out to the entire inn. There was a burning pain as the cleric entered her, the huge thing stretching her to her limits, and all she could do was wince and grit her teeth as she pushed it in, filling her up. Eventually, the head was nestled tight between her cheeks, and L’Arachel stopped.

“Ah…!” Larcei panted. “How is it so…?”

“Perfect? Radiant? Splendid?”

“I was gonna say painful…!”

L’Arachel slowly pulled back, and Larcei was surprised to find that the pain was quickly overridden by a sense of ecstacy.

“Yes, dearest Larcei… you may feel a burning sensation, but this only comes from the evil that yet lingers within you! It is being purified. You are being made into a proper vessel for piety. Soon all shall pass, and you will feel the love—the deeply affectionate and platonic love—of L’Arachel!”

Larcei wondered how she could say such nonsense with a straight face—but honestly, she didn’t care. She was too busy stifling her moans as the woman continued to thrust into her.

“Oh, L’Arachel…!”

“Yes! Yes!” L’Arachel shouted, a little too loud for comfort. “Let our voices be united as one under the gods! Feel the joys of innocent passion and pleasure as those wicked temptations abandon you!”

She began thrusting faster, and Larcei was quickly losing her ability to speak at all. Instead, she let out a series of low moans as she gripped the sheets. As the pleasure became more intense, she started to make louder noises, and any hope of keeping quiet was gone. L’Arachel began to moan as well, and she went faster and faster. Soon, she was practically ramming into Larcei with the strap-on, and the swordswoman was all but screaming out in passion as she felt herself getting closer to the edge. Her hands were gripping the sheets so tightly that they’d become damp, and the both of them were panting.

“Ah…! I feel it!” L’Arachel said. “The radiance… I feel it coming!”

With one final thrust, Larcei came. Her body tensed up as pleasure swept over her, and she felt the sweat dripping down her face. L’Arachel let out a triumphant scream, and Larcei could feel her body tighten as the cleric reached her own climax. A wash of radiance streamed forth from the magical phallus, like sunlight being poured deep into Larcei’s body, before fading away as L’Arachel collapsed to one side of the thin bed.

“Yes!” L’Arachel shouted, laughing. “I’ve done it! I’ve saved your soul from the clutches of evil!”

“If you say so…” Larcei managed, trying desperately to catch her breath. For some reason, she couldn’t suppress a grin. “But now I’m hurting like hell all the way… back there.”

“Ah… yes, well… such holy blessings are for the benefit of the soul alone! Any lasting physical pain is… simply a side effect of the changes within you!”

She stood up, looking down proudly at the exhausted girl.

“Now… speak no more, dearest Larcei! Sleep and banish the remaining impurities from your body, and rest and regain your strength. When your wounds are recovered, we have but one more monster still to purge!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this is the silliest thing I've ever written, but it probably comes close.


End file.
